#Slay the Princess fanfiction

[neverpathia]

i got bored

so have a little parahero thing i'm spontaneously coming up with on tumblr to pull me out of writer's block

-- -- -- -- --

"Seriously?"

The Paranoid was seriously starting to regret becoming the Long Quiet's resident healer. Not that he'd really had a choice at all, mind you, given how he was the only one that was even half-competent with medicines and the like.

Fortunately, the Hero was one of the better patients. Quite frequent—where did he even find all the time and space to go around adventuring?—but still cooperative enough nonetheless. Besides, ever since the Decider left, they'd had plenty of time together. They were quite close now. He liked it.

If he had one complaint about Hero, it would be...never mind. Paranoid urged himself to focus on the task at hand. Please.

Hero sat upright on the edge of his bed and leaned forward, facing Paranoid and not helping his cause.

"Yeah. I'd like to say otherwise, but..." Hero sighed. "Seriously."

Hero had brought the Cheated with him on his latest Hero-ic expedition. The voice of the Cheated. Of all the voices here, did he really have to bring the most reckless? And the most prone to injury? And the one that took the longest to heal?

Paranoid sat down next to Hero. Hero promptly averted his eyes, but he couldn't hide his grin.

"Great," Paranoid rolled his eyes, though he couldn't help but smile a little. "So now I can enjoy even more work than usual."

He glanced at the bed next to Hero's, which was occupied by a sorry mass of bandages. A sorry, spiteful, seething mass of bandages that happened to be vaguely Cheated-shaped.

Yeah, the Cheated was definitely not happy.

Hero shrugged. "Sorry, Para."

"Not that this hasn't happened before," muttered Paranoid. "Does he have any common sense at all? Getting hurt this much, I swear Cheated runs on pure spite."

"Para, you run on pure anxiety."

"Yeah, it's true, but at least it's efficient. Meanwhile, you run on pure righteousness..."

"Like a true hero, right?"

"...and then you make horrible decisions. But yes, very heroic of you."

Hero blinked. "They weren't all horrible!"

"Well, okay, you also made a lot of good ones. I can't deny that, so fine."

Hero proceeded to break into the most sunshiny possible expression ever. Paranoid rolled his eyes, and tried to ignore the fact that he felt like he was being melted all warm and fuzzy.

"They weren't all horrible," said Paranoid. "They were just mostly horrible."

Hero laughed, but it faded out when Paranoid abruptly froze in place.

"Para?"

No response.

"Paranoid?"

The other voice began to tremble a little, and there seemed to be something tightening inside him. Fear. Panic.

Hero was on high alert now. "Are you- Are you okay? Is it coming again?"

"Hero." Paranoid buried his face in his hands.

Paranoid released a little nervous laugh into his palms. For some reason, he'd lately developed some habit of mad-laughing when he was extremely scared, but then again, he was always scared. Still, that might not be a good sign.

"Hey." Hero inched closer to Paranoid and put an arm around his shoulders. He tried for a friendly smile. "Don't worry, you'll fix him right up. This wouldn't be the first time."

"Yes, I know I'm good at my job, thank you very much—" Paranoid cut off his words, slumped against Hero, and paused for a bit before speaking. "No. It's not about that."

They simply sat like that, shoulder to shoulder, Paranoid's head resting against the strong, carved lines of Hero's neck.

"Are you tired?" When Hero spoke, his tone was kind but cautious, as if he were trying to search for the right words but couldn't tell which ones they were. Still, something small in Paranoid relaxed.

"Yes," he admitted. Soft. Barely a whisper, barely spoken at all.

"Do you...want to say what you're thinking about?"

"I- Okay, what about you? Doesn't it tire you out, having to hear what I have to say all the time again and again and again and again—"

"No." Hero took Paranoid's hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "Maybe it's not okay, but I care for you. And I want to know. Just tell me, if you want to."

Paranoid laced his fingers between Hero's. His hand was clammy and a little shaky.

"I'm just...Look at Cheated. And you, you put yourself in danger all the time, always doing the right thing, these wounds, what if it happens to you? What if you're injured and I can't bring you back or you hurt so much and I have to do something about it and I can't or-or-or-or-or—"

Before he could say any more, Hero pulled him into a hug.

"I'll be careful. I promise."

[msfcatlover]

The Dancer

Slay the Princess route where you insist there has to be a key, convince the Narrator to let you go back upstairs to retrieve the knife, and manage to escape the cabin to search outside of the window, where you find it half-buried in the garden. The Narrator tries everything to make you drop the key or give up the idea, every step back down into the basement is a different form of agony, before you finally drop to your knees at the Princess’s side (mid cardiac arrest) and unlock her cuff.

The Princess is delighted. She grabs her unshackled wrist with a brilliant smile, leaps to her feet and dances about the basement, revealing in her freedom. Then, suddenly, she realizes how bad off you are, and that joy melts away into panic as she tries to figure out a way to save you the same way you saved her.

She can’t, of course. You’re out of breath, wheezing, and can’t manage more than a single word before your heart finally gives out. Everything goes dark, and you die.

The Princess you meet in Chapter Two is a little bit ditzy, a bubbly attitude, and is already free. She has tiny fairy wings, thin antennae on either side of a crown of morning glories, ribbon-y ballet slippers (not proper pointe shoes, probably), and her dress is modeled after old-school ballerinas. You know, with the floofy bell skirts Edgar Degas so loved to paint.

(And here’s some lovely fairy ballerinas in somewhat similar dresses)

She’s protective & worried, and already out of her chains when you arrive. She cries out in joy when she hears you coming down the stairs and races over to meet you, giving the Narrator one hell of a fright. Because the last thing you saw was her staying in the cabin to try to save you, she prioritizes your health over her own freedom, fussing over you. Her cabin is much cozier, with a basement that actually looks like a livable room, right down to a little fire with a cook pot simmering underneath the window.

If you choose to stay & share a meal with her, you will eventually nod off beside the Dancer, her fingers gently brushing your feathers.

The Narrator says you don’t know how long you slept, and you will never know. Because you never wake up. You shirked your duties, and slept straight through the end of the world.

Any other route will inevitably lead to you two escaping together. Unless you kill her, in which case you get the Burned Grey.

(“This one is revelry, but she is also grieving. She never thought anyone would care enough to help, but you sacrificed everything for her. She will make for an effervescent heart. Do not mourn her, for she has found the love she longed for.)

.

Chapter 3: The Dream The Dream’s skirt is longer, back to floor-length, but also formed of wispy layers of torn silk, making it look almost smokey. Her tiny butterfly antenna have become big, feathery moth-y ones, and her wings now drape down her back like a cape. Her eyes are solid black, but refract light enough to look more like large gems than holes in her face. When she smiles, her teeth are sharp.

She is syrupy sweet, just as caring as the Dancer, just as clingy as the Damsel. But there’s an edge to her now. Your last thought was, after all, likely wondering if she had tricked you, to try to trap you down here. She now cares more about holding you at her side than she cares about her freedom, and would happily keep you trapped in that basement with her for eternity if she thought it would keep you with her. Her innocence is more manipulative than genuine—she will not hesitate to whip out the tears or feign hurt in order to get her way, and her protective affection is now borderline smothering.

It’s easy to fall under the Dream’s sway, but like the Nightmare, she really just wants to mold you into what she wants most. It will take a good deal of trickery of your own to coax her out of the cabin, or else the Shifting Mound will take her around when she clasps chains on you, insisting it’s for the best & that you’ll thank her later.

(“This one is shelter & desperation. She knew only captivity and so sought it as a means to protect the only person who ever cared. Her vulnerability is real, but she coveted your company more than your health or happiness. She will make for a passionate heart. Do not mourn her, for she has found the love she longed for.)

.

No original voices, I think. The Dancer & Dream strike me as Smitten & Paranoid routes, respectively. They are (probably obviously) basically alternate versions of the Damsel & Nightmare, after all.

And you know, I think it’d be interesting to see Paranoid deal with a Princess who just seems nice until things start to ramp up.

[impossiblycyberenthusiast]

Now that chapter 3 is out, I’m going to start promoting To Be Whole Again here;

A classic post-game au, taking place with the voices and vessels after What Happens Next.

You like these designs? This what all of them look like :> more designs incoming too; Happy and Dragon won the poll.

[yourlokalescholar]

Is no one gonna write about the voices developing into their own people after getting their own bodies, helping each other survive and grow into multifaceted individuals? Fine, I’ll do it myself

[pink-november]

Hey, Pink! I saw how you liked the old version of Long Queit and Thorn dealing with eachothers scars.....so I wanted to give ya a sneaky peaky at what I'm currently working on.

"You and Thorn have spent almost three days alone in your house together, you and her did have a lot to work out together after all. The first few hours are filled with the two of you exploring your new home with bright and curious eyes. But soon you two get into a comfortable rhythm of spending time together in the common area's of your home. But allowing eachother plenty of space and privacy in your separate rooms.

One morning Thorn leaves the room for a brief period and as she is gone you discuss with the voices how much pain you were in before fully collapsing as a result of their arguments. Back when you had first reached this village. It takes some time, but you and them all work out a solution. It feels, weird to conceptualize. They don't leave, but it feels like it. They dive deeper into the subconscious parts of your mind where they can't see what you see, and you can't hear them. It's the best compromise you and a crowd of people living inside your skull can do to allow something resembling privacy. You get up and seek out Thorn, wanting to spend some time with her now that it would truly just be the two of you, (for now) and you hear water running on the other side of a partially open door."

It's for chapter 5 of "Hide with me, from the end."

OH MY GOSH I'M 💥💥💥💥

I'm looking at you like this right now 🥺🥺🥺 literally shaking you through my phone raaarghhh

Waaah first of all thank you for sharing this <333 I'm holding this tenderly right now owo your writing is phenomenal *chef's kiss* this short scene really captures a sense of calm before the storm because I predict we'll be having some of that delicious angst before you'll give us the comfort of Quiet and Thorn silently meeting each other again, understanding and forgiving each other for their mistakes, before cuddling 🫠🫠🫠 also I'm a sucker for characters tending to each other's scars– the intimacy of it all ya know

[unfinishedslurs]

The boy stops in his tracks. “I know you,” he says, tilting his head curiously. He’s not tall, but he’s regal nonetheless, dressed all in white. Something about him makes Leia’s hair stand on end, and although she hides it she feels a stirring in her own chest. I know you like I know my own soul, she thinks wildly, and wonders where it came from. Has she gone insane?

“That’s nice,” she says, and shoots him anyway.

He deflects it in a flash of light, a glowing blue laser sword appearing in his hand like magic. She’s only seen one of those before, and it’s Vader’s. If this boy is anything like Vader, she realizes, she’s in deep shit.

She’s smart enough to know when she’s outmatched. Leia makes the tactical decision to run for her life.

Later, as she’s getting the hell out of there, she wonders why he didn’t try to stop her.

She remembers being young and tugging on her mothers skirts, demanding to know why their guest was so sad. “Does he not like it here?” She’d asked, and then, trembling, because Kenobi always seemed saddest around her. “Is it…because of me?”

“Oh, Leia,” her mother sighed, lifting her into her arms. “It’s not that, I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

“Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, years ago.” Breha’s eyes grew deeper, darker. “It was not his fault, but he blames himself. You remind him of that child, that’s all.”

Leia had quieted at that, contemplative.

The next time she’d seen Master Kenobi, she had given him a hug. He didn’t seem to know what to do with that, so she resolved to give him more of them. “He’s lonely,” she’d told her mother. “No one should be lonely.”

Looking at Obi-Wan Kenobi now, the memory seemed so far away. He’d aged thirty years in the ten it had been.

He looks, Leia thinks with a small twinge of regret, very lonely.

“Leia,” he greets. “It’s been a long time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leia sees a glint of white.

Kenobi freezes in his tracks. “Luke?” He whispers, and through the distance Leia can hear it as if he’d been speaking directly into her ear.

Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, her mother whispers in her head. He blames himself.

In an instant, Leia understands everything.

Kenobi is still staring at the boy he’d lost so long ago when Vader cuts him down.

Later, as she’s pacing around on the Falcon to Han muttering darkly about Princesses and supernatural abilities, she rememberers the way the boy collapsed, as if all his strings had been cut. Vader was too occupied with him to even look at her as she shot at him desperately.

Luke. She hates him more than she hates herself.

“They know where you are,” he hisses frantically. “They’re coming for you. You have to run.”

“Wait!” Leia quickly pulls up their sonar. Nothing yet, but it would explain the distant queasiness she’d felt since they’d landed. She tended to trust her gut. “How do you know? How much time do we have?”

“Not important, and not enough,” he says. “I have to go, and so do you. You need to leave yesterday.”

“How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”

He pauses. “Call me Skywalker.”

“That’s not an answer, Skywalker.”

“Yes it is.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but there are faint voices on the other end, drawing nearer.

“Shit,” Skywalker mutters. “I have to go. I’ll be in contact, okay? Don’t ever tell me where you are, or where you’re heading. Vader and Palpatine aren’t shy about reading minds. Just leave as soon as you can, and figure out the rest.”

“But—“

It’s too late. The comm has disconnected.

She stares down at it, disbelieving. How would the Empire know they’re here? Why should she trust a stranger who somehow got her personal comm code?

Gut feeling or not, on paper this was a perfect location. Supplied, armored, and most importantly, extremely well hidden. There was no real reason to think it would possibly be found out.

It’s probably a trap. Almost definitely a trap.

Han sticks his head in the door, a sour look on his face. “Hey Princess, can you tell these idiots—“

She makes a decision then and there.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We’re evacuating, effective immediately.” She pushes past him, and he follows so close he’s nearly stepping on her heel.

“Why? I think it’s pretty cozy here. Actual sunlight doesn’t hurt, either.”

“Apparently too cozy.” She grabs the first person she sees, a pilot who stares at her with wide eyes. “Emergency evacuation. Spread the word to pack everything you can and leave, I’ll let you know where we’re headed when we’re in orbit.”

He salutes and scurries off.

“Woah, hey now.” Han snatches at her elbow until she turns around to face him. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a new informant. He told me the Empire knows we’re here. They’re coming for us.”

“And you trust this person because…”

“I don’t have a choice,” she snaps. Someone runs past them, holding three packs filled to the brim with rations. “It’s either he’s lying and we’re not in danger, or he’s telling the truth and we’re going to die if we don’t listen. It’s not exactly hard math.”

It could be a trap of course, but he hadn’t suggested any sort of direction or destination to follow, and Leia wasn’t inclined to share. Especially not after his tidbit about Vader and Palpatine reading minds.

He squints at her. “That’s not it.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” he insists. He’s so infuriating. Leia doesn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do, and you’re either gonna tell me why, or find a different transport when we head out of here.”

“Who said I was riding on your hunk of junk?” She demands. She actually was planning on going with them, since the Falcon has more than enough room for all the supplies that can’t fit in the other ships and none of the trustworthiness of the other pilots, but Han doesn’t need to know that.

“Well?”

Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to read her. She doesn’t know when she let that happen.

“I feel it,” she admits, defeated. “Something tells me he’s trustworthy. We’ll wait and see if it’s right.”

He studies her. She holds her head high, but inside she’s jittery at the scrutiny. They don’t have time for this.

“Yeah, all right,” Han finally says.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes, like she’s not acting absolutely insane by putting all her trust in a random man she’s never even met. “Now come on, Princess, weren’t you the one who said we had to hurry?”

What is it about this man that makes it impossible to tell whether she wants to punch him or drag him into the nearest supply closet? They don’t have time to find out.

“So there’s good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” she demands.

“They know there’s a mole.”

“Shit.” Of course they know, how could they not? She should have been more careful, less obvious about the correlation of their movements with the Empire’s plans. “The good news?”

“They’ve tasked me with hunting down this ‘pathetic rebel spy,’” Skywalker says, humor in his voice. “That should buy me some time.”

Leia can’t quite stop the snort she lets out. “Seriously?”

“Yep. You’re speaking to a professional mole-hunter, here.”

“Well congratulations on the promotion, Skywalker.”

“Thank you,” he says grandly. Then, quieter, “It won’t last, Princess. They’ll find out eventually.”

“I know. Just hang in there, it will be over soon.”

“Will it?” He asks, suddenly sounding very young. She realizes that she has no idea how old he is. She doesn’t know anything about the man who has saved them more times than she cared to admit, and the idea rattles her until they sign off.

Later, she looks up the name Skywalker in their archives. There are a few results, but only one sticks out.

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and hero of the Clone Wars. Killed at the hands of Darth Vader. There are gossip articles too, speculations on his relationship with the pregnant Senator Padmé Amidala, who died around the same time Skywalker did. The baby, it seems, died with her.

Unless he didn’t.

It’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. The idea is so ludicrous that Leia almost rejects it entirely.

But it makes sense. By the Maker, it makes sense.

The child of Anakin Skywalker, it seems, would be a powerful Force user indeed. Powerful enough for Kenobi to take the baby and run. Powerful enough for the Emperor to want him for his own gain. Powerful enough to send Vader after Kenobi and take the boy himself.

Maybe even powerful enough to shield his mind from Vader and Palpatine’s intrusions.

Powerful enough to hide the fact that he’s a spy.

Leia sinks into her chair, covering her face as she laughs.

Maybe Luke isn’t so bad after all.

“No, no, no,” she mutters, digging through the smoking wreckage of the TIE fighter. “Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

“Princess…” Han lays a hand on her shoulder that she immediately shrugs off.

“No, he’s not dead. He’s not. Luke!”

A faint cough answers her, and she’s so relieved to hear it she could cry. Behind her, Han starts bellowing for a medic and, “Some damn help here, do you expect us to move all this ourselves?”

“Luke, it’s me,” she sobs. “It’s Leia. You’re at the Rebel Base. You’re safe.”

More coughing, and there’s a worrying rasp to his voice when he says, “You know…my name?”

“I figured it out.”

“Smart.” This time, the coughing is so bad Leia and Han both wince.

“Shit, kid,” Han says, moving another piece of rubble. “Don’t talk. We’re gonna get you out of here, all right?”

“Stand back,” Luke chokes out.

“What?”

“Stand back. Please.”

Han protests, but something in Leia knows they should listen to him. She drags him back, and motions everyone else to fall back with them. They do, albeit reluctantly.

“Clear,” she calls, hoping Luke can hear her.

The TIE explodes.

“Fuck!” Han goes back in, Leia on his heels with the terrifying feeling that she’d just allowed Luke to die, before they both stop in their tracks. Around them, the broken pieces of the TIE are floating.

And curled up in the middle is a man dressed all in white.

“Luke!” She pushes past Han to start dragging him out, and after another moment of staring around them, he helps her.

As soon as they get clear, the pieces fall to the ground with a clatter. Luke falls limp with them.

Han is still looking at the TIE. “Can you do that?” He asks quietly.

Leia pauses her examination of the unconscious man in front of her to glare at him. “Is that what you’re most concerned with right now? Really?”

“Excuse me for asking, Princess!”

“It’s white,” Luke grumbles, pulling at his hospital gown bitterly. “I hate wearing white.”

“Should I be offended?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even. You look great and you know it. I just feel like I never left.”

“Well,” she says gingerly. “I guess it’s a good thing you got sick of it. If we went around in matching outfits all the time, people might think we’re twins.”

He snorts. “Yeah, right.”

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Harry Du Bois and his skills from Disco Elysium is in the role of Slay the Princess' protagonist. The usual Voices and the Narrator accompany them as if nothing is out of place. Things go more than just out of place.

Author: ASpooky

Note from submitter: This fanfic is glorious both in it's writing and how it looks. This fanfic looks like its straight from Disco Elysium and plays with it wonderfully. There are gags playing with and poking fun at the differences of the source materials like the characters from StP needing to be rearranged to fit into the DE style of narration. The author manages to mesh the two worlds together in a glorious way as if the two were meant to be together while expanding upon both. What personally shocks me is that this is ASpooky's first work and it is glorious beyond compare. They've also never coded before yet they managed to incorporate StP's famous "Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves." moment in a really, really cool way that you just have to see for yourself. I am in love with every little thing of this fanfic and it's still going!

[v3nuskae]

I MADE FANFICTION!!!

Erm, hi. I'll be honest, my Slay the Princess fixation died down the last couple days. But! I have one last thing to share. If I could somehow bring myself back to this fandom again, I'll continue it. For now, I present to you my fanfiction based on this AU: The Knight Btw, this is my first time putting my actual writing work out there. I'm confident about my art, but writing is a whole 'nother thing. So, if you guys could, please be gentle. 😓😓 Thanks so much for the likes and the little notes and tags in your reposts. I read a lot of them and it means a lot to me. Maybe I'll be back posting about STP or other fandoms soon.

[taking-a-raincheck]

I have 3 Very Important Questions for y'all: out of all the Slay The Princess voices (excluding the Narrator), who would be the best singer, who would like to sing the most, and who would be the one to sing lullabies when someone else couldn't sleep?

No particular reason. Definitely not for a certain STP series I'm way too excited to be planning. Nope.

Edit: thank you so much for all your suggestions, everyone! I loved them (and continue to love them) and I think they'll be very helpful 😉

[alteredphoenix]

The only idea for a Slay the Princess fic that I have so far is a crack fic where the first Princess - say, the Stranger - arrives in the Long Quiet and has to ask the Shifting Mound to at least give her something to do to pass the time while she waits for the Hero to show up. The Shifting Mound ends up manifesting a few packs of poker cards in neat little cellophane and a rulebook and tells her to get comfortable.

Cue the Stranger playing all sorts of card games with the other Princesses as they come into the Long Quiet one by one.

[birdmitosis]

I'm working on a Voices-focused Slay the Princess fanfic, and whoo boy, this is fun and trippy. It's taking place after the "And? What happens next?" ending, Stranger-version. (Speaking of which, if anyone knows of a playthrough where they chose the "Are you two going to be okay alone?" explore option at the end, I would appreciate a link so so much!) Hero and Contrarian wait a bit in the basement of the cabin, then realize when they try to go back upstairs that… they have a body again. A body just like the protagonist's had been, and Hero seems to be in charge of it now. And after going back upstairs, the other Voices do trickle back in, until all of them are there, stuck in the cabin as they're not even sure there's anything outside of it-- And then Smitten punches Cold. And it actually splits them, all of them, into two separate physical bodies. Cue the Voices trying to figure out how to actually split further and get individual bodies, while also having to deal with becoming… fully-fledged individual people, outside of their simple descriptors, as well as more and more alone in their own heads. And trying to figure out what might be outside the (increasingly crowded) cabin, and whether or not they want to risk seeing if they can go there. Ships are going to be Contrarian/Hero, Cold/Paranoid, and maybe Hunted/Opportunist. Also, mostly entirely offscreen, Princess/Protagonist, Damsel/Smitten, Adversary/Stubborn, and maybe Cheated/Thorn. Not sure about any others, we'll have to see what happens.

[faislittlewhiteraven]

Tower of Dormont ISaT AU

Had a weird dream I figured would make a great ISaT AU if anyone wants to take a swing at it so umm, general idea:

Instead of the House being taken over by the King, instead the Favor Tree is warped into an evergrowing tower reaching up, up, up into the heavens.

Instead of the King's Curse slowly making its way across the land and Mirabelle being the 'Chosen One' to collect the orbs to stop it, it's time freezing Sadnesses raining down from the top of the Tower all over Vaugarde and surrounding countries, with heroes from all over (Euphie, Claude, various Defenders, people from other countries, etc) heading into the Tower to figure out what is happening only to never return...

And well. It looks like the end for Vaugarde, Mirabelle (having finally hit the 'I know what Euphrasie said but I've got to do something' point) has recruited Isa, Odile and Bonnie for a last ditch effort to try and stop the world from ending by Tower and...

Within the first few floors (which keep changing but kind of look like... The House of Dormont? No, that bit there looks like Odile's family home, and that room there is just like Nille's???) they find an unlocked bedroom and in that room an exhausted, terrified and near hopeless Siffrin who can barely remember anything from his life before being imprisoned here (even takes a bit to recall his name over the now despised 'Bright One') but after a bit of coaxing they admit they know a LOT about the floors ahead and might be willing to help the party reach the top of the Tower where they can put a stop to the madness going on outside but in return they must not let the King catch them (not again not again not again)...

Party are actually pretty cool with this (you know, aside from general 'is this person legit or actually an enemy?' concerns) but well, it's hard not to notice as their guide goes from barely able to fight beyond weak scissors craft and buffs to healing and every craft type under the sun. From claiming they don't know what's behind a certain door or above the next floor to explaining in detail that the prisoners in cages on the next floor are all Sadnesses, or that 'the King is coming, he hasn't realised I've left the room yet but I need something, anything, to mask my scent' (and later gets everyone to leave false trails down halls via jars of sugar and honey they picked up a few rooms previous). From claiming that the party are the only other people they've ever seen here to having near breakdowns over finding books or paintings with imagery and words that seem eerily familiar (think a book that reads like 'Claude wonders why Euphrasie and their amnesiac guide are so fussed about the walls here apparently being covered in stars? Why do stars matter anyway?'), etc.

Oh and they glow more and more with each floor which er, is probably going to make hiding from the King (who is VERY DEFINITELY after them judging from all the "Bright One, you know you are not supposed to leave you room. You do not want me angry again do you Bright One?" roaring) increasingly difficult.

...

And yeah. I don't actually know what is going on in this story beyond cool imagery due to the whole 'Literally woke up with this in my head because dream' but...

Been thinking it's kinda like an 'end game Persona series' situation where a chance friendly meeting/talk between Sif and the King right before the King's rampage would've started, led to the King to realizing he could use his Wish Craft to force the people of Vaugarde to 'wish with him' (see: escalating brainwashing madness), forcing a terrified Sif to go along with it (no brainwashing for the Bright One no, not when they were clearly sent by the Universe to be the King's guide ignore the Bright One's screams that this is wrong, that they want nothing to do with this; clearly oracles only relay the Universe's intent not share it themselves), and the current 'raining time freezing Sadnesses/Sif clearly being stuck in some weird looping variant' stuff being the result of Sif's 'Please protect Vaugarde and restore our home' wish said at the King's orders being heard by the Universe as "please Universe do whatever you can to stop all of Vaugarde- No, the world from falling under the King's control! + Someone, anyone save me! + 'immense amounts of self loathing and a desire to known and held accountable for inadvertently sparking a man made apocalypse' + Universe I wish I had people who actually cared about me/who would never only use me as a tool to save the world" and er well. The Universe had a way to 'protect everyone from the King' that would also kind of fit the King's wishes, a whole heap of power from all the brainwashed people the King was leading plus the 'meant to be repurposed' freezing all of Vaugarde in time ritual the King crafted to work from Dormont and... Yeah. Add to that people all over Vaugarde and possibly other countries 'adding' to the 'please save us' wish bank after Sif had already accidently centered it all around himself and basically both Sif's loops and the Sadness hell storm are being powered up by everyone everywhere in one huge ball of 'Hmm, I wonder if this all ends with the King getting killed or is there gonna be a big old morality question thingy post King killing at the end where Sif, upon remembering that "this is all my fault" tries to get the others to kill him which other heroes may have done (and thus triggering the loop, sending Sif back to the start possibly missing memories of them to hide away in shame/terror/etc) whereas Mira, Isa, Odile and Bonnie have gotten far too attached to this tragic, self sacrificing idiot and were willing to let the rest of the world be fully frozen for the rest of Sif's natural lifespan if it meant he could finally be free (not happy about it mind you, but like, just the 5 of them living in a quiet world until everyone else is safely freed after Sif's natural death is better than murdering someone who went through an eternity of horrors to protect a world they couldn't even remember and who's death might not even be the true answer anyway)'.

Oh and the King should basically be treated like a yandere version of the Reaper or something throughout the story (dream had way too many 'and then the King was suddenly there killing someone until Sif slashes their throat -no tears to use in this Tower alas- and from the party's perspective basically has a 'vision of the future' and/or freakout for seemingly no reason in the middle of Snack Time), while each of the many many floors of the Tower are basically due to being altered to match the minds of everyone (frozen or not) in the Tower, kinda like a Palace or P4 dungeon, due to well, Sif unconsciously wanting to learn more about them, wanting to remember/forget, possibly on some level wanting the King to how horrible this all actually is IDK (snack rooms, like the bedroom Sif was in are basically P5 saferooms but less 'area weak in cognition' and more 'Sif wishes for there to be places safe from the King and all the Sadness so there are some even if he knows he can't stay in them forever least they become prisons for him'). ...Might be nightmare floors as well? To represent Sif's terror of bad things happening to anyone he becomes attached to and wanting to be able to protect them so basically, they are accidentally making their own opposition (possibly based off of what they hear the others being afraid of/the desire to be useful to them) and I think Slay the Princess might make for great inspiration there if you need an idea of how crazy that might go~ XD

...So. Yeah. If anyone wants to use any of this for any fanfic ideas, please go ahead as I kind of would like to focus on my Selkie Au and fics for other fandoms more than this weird dream that basically took over my brain and said SHARE in caps so loud I've been stuck thinking about it ever since.

[yourlokalescholar]

Okay so I posted this on Ao3 ages ago but completely forgot I meant to upload here so uh… better late than never?

Anyway this is the first part of my roleswap au :D Working on part two now; I’ll upload it here once it’s done, but there are two chapters on my Ao3 already if anyone wants to check it out!

[ace-robot-has-matcha]

“The others? Hardly an amusement. But she is…well.”

Drew an (unpublished) scene from Smoke and Glass using @sonjalikestodraw’s Cold design. The Cold is like my second or third favorite and this is such a sick ass design so I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I really want to pick up Smoke and Glass again, it was really hard but really fun.

Read smoke and glass here

[sarahwriterx]

Here we go again...

For Dear @astrisazathoth If you want to join this challenge>>

She is living in GameLand, in a lonely cage that is in the Minecraft Forest. she is a psychologist who want to help every characters and she is very kind and heartwarming. She is divorced recently and she believes that everyone in DreamLand need a big help to get peace.